


The Impossible Dreams of Summer Days

by Tokyo_the_Glaive



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokyo_the_Glaive/pseuds/Tokyo_the_Glaive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hayden has a request for Moulder.</p><p>(Or, the one where Moulder has an impossible crush on his lord and regrets what cannot be.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Impossible Dreams of Summer Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurumite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurumite/gifts).



> Inspired by aurumite's Sacred Stone's readthrough and the realization that Moulder compares his admiration of Hayden to Vanessa's own love of Innes.

Hayden’s coronation may have been the beginning of his rule and of a period of prosperity for Frelia, but it was the end of Moulder.

As a young man, Moulder dreaded that looming day, of Hayden crowned king.Not because Hayden would be a poor king—in fact, Moulder knew the exact opposite to be true.Hayden was wise beyond his years, just and fair.His tongue was sharp and his skills with sword and bow were nothing to scoff at, but he used both judiciously, carefully, never too much, never too little.He possessed both shrewdness and cunning in equal measures—unfashionable traits, perhaps, but necessary ones for wrangling the court and the murky business of foreign relations.Hayden would make a marvelous king, no doubt about that.

No, Moulder dreaded Hayden’s coronation because he would be _King_ , and kings had responsibilities.There could be no more hours spent in idle conversation and study, alone in the library or the courtyard Hayden favored.There could be no more rides into the countryside and down to the sea unsupervised.No more nights spent together by candlelight, speaking in low voices lest anyone catch them.

No more Hayden and Moulder, together, alone.Moulder shuddered to think of it.He’d grown to value his time spent with his liege more than any of his class should—more than could be defined as _safe_ or _wise_ or even _right_.He attributed his intense attraction—for there was no safer word for it—to the sheer unlikelihood of their relationship.

Moulder had never been an attractive man—not by any stretch of the imagination.His face was too square and his eyes poorly set; his nose was too wide and his skin too dark.Moulder’s complexion had always given him away as one of the clergy, someone who’d been given a position at court because of his rare ability to heal as opposed to birthright.It made him a target for ridicule, though hardly ever to his face.Hayden saw to that.

Hayden, the wise.Hayden, the beautiful.

When Hayden wasn’t around to stop them, Moulder couldn’t help but hear the questions: _why does the crown prince associate with such lowborn filth?Why does he consort with such a hideous priest?_

Why, why, why.

Rumors abounded.Some said Moulder was a cover; that Hayden had a dazzling young lover—or lovers, depending on the gossiper—who he consorted with in secret.Some said Moulder had put a spell on the Prince, seducing him to for some nefarious purpose.Others thought Hayden merely had poor taste in friends.

Moulder could personally attest that he had performed no seduction, and he was entirely sure Hayden had no lover.For reasons known only to Hayden himself, he’d caught sight of Moulder and hadn’t let him go.

For years, Moulder’s heart had sung at their closeness.Hayden told him things—everything from the petty gossip of the nobility to his opinions on matters of state.For quite some time, the new Emperor of Grado, Vigarde, dominated their conversations.Hayden was impressed with his kind and stern demeanor.

“He’ll lead Grado into a new age,” Hayden once told Moulder.

“Do you think?” Moulder asked, tentative.Even after so long together, Moulder still hesitated when it came to questioning his liege.Hayden had invited it himself—he thought highly of Moulder’s opinions and valued any input he had.Moulder couldn’t see why, but to hear Hayden say such a thing set off a feeling in his heart that more and more refused to abandon him.

“I do,” Hayden said, sure of himself.His eyes sparkled in the candlelight—they lay on the floor propped on pillows in Hayden’s own quarters to avoid anyone sighting the candle.“He’ll reform their Empire.He’s as fed up with their corruption and civil strife as the rest of us.”

Hayden looked so convinced, so zealous at the thought of social reform, that Moulder couldn’t help but stare.Hayden didn’t seem to mind, though it embarrassed Moulder to no end that he showed his hand so easily.It was all he could do not to reach across the small distance between them to cradle Hayden’s face in his hand, pull it just a little closer and—

Moulder would never, though.Hayden would reject him, and their friendship would be gone, permanently.Even if he didn’t—even if Hayden did welcome it, as impossible as it seemed—Moulder was no woman.He could produce no heir.No romance between them could ever blossom into anything more because Hayden was to be king.There was no one behind him to take his place, and aside from that, Hayden _wanted_ the crown.He wanted to be what he imagined Vigarde would be to Grado: a reformer, a catalyst for change, and a true leader.Moulder would never ask him to throw away that future.He couldn’t.

At the same time, Moulder couldn’t stand the thought of it, of losing the person who had completely and irreversibly become the absolute center of his world.If Hayden gave the word, Moulder would abase himself—he would utterly destroy himself.Moulder would do it without hesitation, all for Hayden.

Hayden never asked.Implicitly, Moulder trusted that Hayden never would.

And Hayden didn’t—it wasn’t in his nature to demand of others what they would not themselves do without provocation unless the situation demanded it—but once, _just once_ , Hayden asked Moulder for something rash.

* * *

It was a warm night: Frelia was just on the verge of summer.  The spring flowers had come and gone, and in their place had risen the heady, vibrant blooms of early summer, the kind that blossomed before the drought and the heat killed nearly everything.  The crickets were loud in that night, and an earlier storm had stolen the humidity from the air.

Hayden had summoned Moulder to meet him in his quarters.Moulder was only too happy to oblige.

Lately, they hadn’t seen much of each other.The King’s condition—old age, Moulder suspected, as did Hayden, but several ambitious healers had decided otherwise and tried everything to reverse his “ailment”—had steadily worsened.Widespread was the belief that he would perish before the month’s end.

The King’s actions only amplified this belief.He had declared himself unfit for the crown.Hayden’s coronation would be held in a month’s time regardless of the King’s own survival.The day Moulder had so long dreaded was now real and tangible.Merchants hawked wares, eager to supply for the upcoming celebrations despite the short notice.The palace staff operated at all hours, planning, preparing, worrying.

Moulder knocked at Hayden’s door after checking the halls.No one about to see him come.Hayden would help ensure there would be no one when he left.

Hayden quickly opened the door and pulled Moulder inside.He shut it with Moulder still pressed against it.

“Have you heard?” Hayden asked, breath quick.He hadn’t lit a candle, and Moulder could only see him by the dim light of the stars and moon.He was unspeakably, unbearably beautiful, and oh, so close.

“Heard what, my lord?” Moulder asked.

“Father’s set my coronation,” Hayden said.

Moulder swallowed.“I’ve heard,” he said.“Isn’t it wonderful?”

Hayden stared at him through the dark.“Don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Moulder said, trying not to stutter.“You’ll make a spectacular king.I’ve always said so.”

“We won’t be able to see each other like this,” Hayden said.

“No,” Moulder said.“We won’t.”

“Will you miss it?”

Moulder couldn’t lie.“Of course.”

“So will I,” Hayden said, voice thick.He was close, _so close_ , but he came no closer.

“My lord,” Moulder said.His voice shook, though he would admit so much to no one.

Hayden immediately took a step back.Without light, his expression was impossible to see clearly.He might have been pleased, but he might have been hurt.

(It was something that would haunt Moulder to his dying day—wondering what Hayden had felt in that moment, if he’d felt anything at all.)

“Father says I’m to marry,” Hayden said.

Moulder leaned against the door for support and hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Moulder asked, voice weak.

Hayden spent a long moment answering.“He hasn’t chosen anyone in particular.There’s someone,” he said, “who I’ve been seeing, but I don’t think Father would approve.”

“I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl, if she’s caught your eye,” Moulder said.He thought he might be choking.“The King must approve of your union.”

“It wouldn’t be a traditional marriage.”

Moulder considered, then said, “My lord, all your lord father desires is for his line to continue.”Speaking through lead would have been easier.“He would see you marry a peasant girl if she pleased you and bore you many children.”

Hayden was quiet for another long moment.

“Moulder,” he said, “would you do something for me?”

“Anything,” Moulder answered, rash and honest and uncaring of the ramifications.“Anything at all.”

Possibilities raced through Moulder’s mind—impossibilities, really.It was impossible, what he desired.They both had to know it.

Finally, Hayden spoke.“At my coronation,” he said, “would you crown me?”

“I beg your pardon?” Moulder asked.His legs felt shaky beneath him.

“I’ll be standing in a hall of nobles and knights,” Hayden said.“The coronation… It should be a day of triumph, but you and I both know my father likely won’t live to see the celebrations.I’ll be alone amongst them.”

Moulder said, “But, my lord, I will be there, with the rest of the clergy.”

“Yes,” Hayden said quickly, “of course, but I’d like to see you.I’d like…”

Moulder swallowed.He wanted to lunge forward, grip Hayden by the forearms and make him forget whatever woman he’d managed to find when they weren’t together—

“Please,” Hayden said, “I’ll beg, if that’s what it takes: please, be the one to crown me.”

It was the only unwise request Hayden would ever make, and it was the only selfish answer Moulder ever gave when he said, “Yes, of course.”


End file.
